


these battle scars (don't look like they're fading)

by bilgegungoren00



Series: who is in control? [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cyberlife tower scene, Gen, Human!Connor, Hurt/Comfort, Role Reversal AU, android!hank, with a little twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15830958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilgegungoren00/pseuds/bilgegungoren00
Summary: Connor had to leave Hank back on Jericho - unwillingly, per se - to get his brother to safety. So finding him in front of his door is the last thing he expects.Role reversal AU part 6





	1. trust me

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all!
> 
> i'm sorry this took me sooo long. i'm traveling right now (i'm actually in US right now, so hello to my American readers lol) so i can barely find the time to write. but i'm trying! anyway, i should be going home in about a week, so the updates will be quicker then - hopefully!
> 
> anyway, hope you like this chapter!

“You got everything you need?”

“Yep. It’s all in here.”

“Your ID and ticket?”

“Yes.”

“Clothes? Books?”

“Yes, _Mom._ You know I’m not a little kid anymore, right?” Caleb turned to Connor and gave his brother an annoyed look. “I can take care of this shit myself.” Connor sighed. In hindsight, Caleb was probably right. He was an adult now, he didn’t need Connor’s protection anymore, but whenever Connor looked at Caleb, he couldn’t help remembering his six-year-old self, coming home with scraps on his knees and tears in his eyes, begging Connor not to clean the wounds because it hurt too much. Caleb would always be his little brother, and he didn’t think his protective instincts would go away anytime soon.

“I know, I know, I’m just making sure.” He looked up at the airport entrance. “I talked with Richard, he’ll pick you up when you land in California, okay? Go straight to his house, don’t stop anywhere, especially if you see any androids. Stay away from conflict as much as possible. Things are…pretty bad now, and I want you to be safe.”

“We’ll be fine, Connor,” Caleb reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You have more important things to worry about.” Connor shot him a glare. Not that he could blame his brother. When he first told Caleb that he got him a plane ticket and he’d be flying out of the city in, like, three hours—being a lieutenant and having a friend at the airport did have its perks—the boy literally threw a tantrum. He didn’t want to leave Connor alone—he was worried, and rightfully so. But Connor knew he couldn’t leave, not now. This wasn’t just about him anymore. This was about Hank as well, this was about all the deviants, and if things escalated he wanted to be there, to help any way he could.

Caleb…wasn’t too happy about that. But he also saw that he couldn’t change Connor’s mind, so he agreed with the plan. And now here they were, in front of the overcrowded airport, saying what could easily be their last goodbye. Hopefully not, but you never knew what might happen.

He put his hands on Caleb’s shoulder. “Caleb, you guys are the most important things in my life.” He searched his brother’s eyes and put a small kiss on his forehead. “Just… I love you, okay? You and Richard. Don’t you forget that.” It wasn’t the first time Connor told Caleb that, but Caleb knew this had to be serious if his brother went there. Caleb blinked as tears filled his eyes and hugged Connor tightly.

“You be safe as well,” he whispered. Connor nodded. Fuck, he had to be the strong one here, but he couldn’t stop his tears as well. He just hoped Caleb and Richard could stay as far away from this android business as possible.

He pulled back after he pushed away his tears. “Okay, you have to go now or else you’ll miss your plane.” His voice was thick with emotions, especially when he saw that Caleb’s cheeks were wet. He chuckled and wiped away his tears. “I’m gonna be okay, Caleb. You said it yourself, I’m a badass, right?”

“Right. Yeah. Right.” Caleb nodded, even though fear was still evident on his face. He grabbed his suitcase tightly. “Just…making sure, you know. I…” He took a deep breath and looked up at Connor. “I love you, too, brother.”

Connor could just smile and nod at that. Fuck, he hated goodbyes. He hated that he had to say goodbye, but this was for the best. Caleb needed to be safe. He was way too important.

Yet Connor felt wetness in his cheeks as well as he got back into his car, and he had to wipe his cheeks before driving away. The last thing he wanted was to go home and hide right now, but the androids would never accept a human in, and he would never fight against them. As much as he wanted to intervene, staying away was the best option.

Shit, he hated that. He hated that he couldn’t help. He wanted the androids to succeed—and yes, they did have the strength and durability that humans didn’t have, but the sheer size of the human force was daunting. You never knew which way a war would go. Strength and numbers weren’t everything.

But what scared him maybe the most was Hank. The android was obviously going to fight, and Connor had a suspicion that it wouldn’t be with the humans this time. He would fight by Markus, and if he lost… There would be no coming back for him. Sure, Hank always claimed that whenever a Hank model died, Cyberlife would send a new one, but now that Hank deviated… Would they, really? Or if they did, would he be the same Hank?

He doubted that. And it scared the shit out of him. Hank…had become somewhat of a family to him in the last couple of days. The father figure he needed when he was young, but he didn’t have. His father had been too busy with his brothers and work to really take care of him. But Hank? Hank took care of him. He compromised his mission to make sure Connor was mentally okay. He didn’t judge Connor for having problems with anxiety or smoking too much, he didn’t think he was weak for having panic attacks, and he still stayed by his side after learning all of his darkest secrets. He supported Connor no matter what. To lose that…

Connor shook his head. No, Hank wouldn’t die. He was the most advanced prototype Cyberlife had ever created—he would survive. He would come back to Connor with his messy gray hair and lopsided grin, and he’d batter him to stop smoking and get help for his panic attacks. He’d be—

Connor’s thoughts were cut abruptly when he looked up from where he parked and saw a figure standing by his door. His heart jumped in his chest. It was… _Hank_.

But what was the android doing here? There was no way the revolution ended this quickly. He’d just checked the news, and they were talking about a demonstration in front of android destruction camps. (Seriously, though, humanity never learned from their mistakes. They might claim that this was different because androids weren’t human, but fifty years in the future, after androids were integrated into the society as people, humans would look back and be ashamed of what they did to them.) Hank should’ve been there with Markus, right?

He got out of the car and walked up to his house. “Hank? What are you doing here?”

Hank’s expression never changed as he answered—and that was Connor’s first clue—something wasn’t right. “I need your help, Lieutenant. We need to go to the Cyberlife Tower immediately.” His second clue was that Hank’s voice was flat—too flat. If was as if he’d reverted back to being a machine. “Markus needs me to infiltrate the Tower to convert the androids there, so that we can get the upper hand against humans.”

Connor’s frown deepened. His gut feeling told him to not trust Hank, but what he said made logical sense—even though it seemed utterly stupid to try and sneak into probably the most well-guarded building in the city. Markus needed more soldiers, and Cyberlife Tower was filled with androids.

“Okay,” he said slowly, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Just—are you okay? After what happened back at Jericho—“

“I’m fine,” Hank snapped harshly, causing Connor to take a step back. He swallowed back a sick feeling. Something was up, obviously. Hank wasn’t himself. But he couldn’t decide whether it was just a result of what he saw back at Jericho, or whether Cyberlife did something to him. So even though every cell in his body told him to not listen to Hank and just stay away, he nodded. If he wanted Hank back, he needed to figure out what had happened first.

“Just let me wash my face and I’ll come right back out.” He unlocked his door and stepped inside, and was greeted by Sumo’s whiny meow. He could barely smile at the cat. Sumo brushed his legs as he moved out to look at Hank, and a brief hiss left the cat’s mouth.

That was Connor’s third clue. Sumo loved Hank, and if even he was hissing at the android now… Hank wasn’t himself. Connor’s throat had knotted when he glanced at Hank, yet he pushed forward because really, what choice did he have? He had to go through with this. So he ignored the bad feeling in his mouth as he went to his bedroom instead of the bathroom and grabbed his spare gun. He had a feeling he might need it.

He tucked it inside his pants and hid it with his coat before going back outside. “Ready,” he said tightly, searching Hank’s face. There wasn’t even a twitch—Hank might as well be a statue right now. Connor tensely unlocked the car, and as a last attempt, just to be _completely sure_ he wasn’t dreaming, he turned to Hank. “By the way, thank you for today. I didn’t know what I would’ve done at the police station if you weren’t there for me.” He looked for recognition in Hank’s eyes—something, anything. But there was nothing. Just…emptiness.

Connor had his answer. Whoever this was, it wasn’t Hank. It was someone else—something else. Cyberlife’s trick, probably. He didn’t even want to know where the real Hank was. He stepped back, trying to get away, but Hank, with his android senses, was faster. He reached to grab Connor’s arm and took out the gun from his belt. Connor felt its cold barrel press against his temple.

“I’m sorry, lieutenant,” Hank said, even though his tone didn’t have a hint of apology. “But I need you to come with me in order to complete my mission. It’s nothing personal.”

Connor squared his face to hide his fear as he let Hank lead him to the car. He really didn’t want to go to the Cyberlife Tower, but he had a feeling that whatever happened to his Hank, the real Hank, he’d find it there. He really didn’t have much of a choice, at the end.

* * *

Hank stepped out of the elevator, leaving behind the bodies of two dead guards. He didn’t want to kill anybody—he never liked hurting anyone, not even when he was just a machine—but he knew coming here he wouldn’t have a choice. The androids’ cause…the revolution… It was much too important. Yes, keeping the moral high ground was important, but when humans were adamant to kill you, you had to fight back in some way.

He looked around the army of androids around him, and his face twisted with disgust. Machines. Merchandise. _Slaves._ That was what androids were to humans. And sure, yeah, as long as androids stayed as machines, it wasn’t much of a problem, but when feelings got involved… You couldn’t ignore that, as much as you wanted to. It would be _cruel._ Real or not, malfunction or not, deviants did have feelings—as Hank recently found out on a personal level. It was cruel to hurt them, to pretend they couldn’t feel.

He shook off the thoughts and stepped forward, grabbing the arm of one of the androids. He’d never done this—never deviated any android. But he’d seen Markus do it. How hard could it be? He accessed the android’s memory and closed his eyes, threading his way through his programming—

“Step back, Hank!” He stopped and his eyes flickered open at the familiar—eerily familiar—voice. He looked up…

An artificial breath got hitched in his throat. It was… _himself._ Not himself, per se—it was another Hank model, with a gun in his hand—a gun pointed at _Connor._ At Lieutenant Anderson, who just stood there with his arms dangling on his side, his face a mask of nonchalance. As if he wasn’t a trigger away from dying.

Hank’s insides coiled, and at that moment he knew what the deviants meant when they talked about fear. This was what it must’ve felt like.

“And I’ll spare him,” Hank—not-Hank?—continued. His hand didn’t even shake one bit, and determination was shining in his eyes. A cold determination with no feeling at all. Not-Hank wasn’t a deviant. It was way too obvious.

Hank’s eyes flickered to Connor. The lieutenant’s eyes were wide, as if he was trying to tell him something, but Hank couldn’t figure out what it was. He could barely think right at this moment, as if…as if he was frozen with terror. _Great._ What a fucking great time to be _human._

“I’m sorry, Hank,” Connor said calmly, quietly. “It looked _just like you_.” He exaggerated the last words, as if he was suggesting the opposite of what he was saying—sarcasm, Hank was able to identify after spending so much time with Connor. He frowned. Not-Hank…did look exactly like him. What was Connor trying to say?

Not-Hank ignored Connor as he continued. “You have to decide what’s more important to you, Hank. Him, or the revolution?” Hank’s hand twitched, and his first impulse was to pull back right away. But he turned his gaze to Connor and saw him shake his head.

“Don’t do it, Hank. He’s lying,” he said, his voice steady. Connor…didn’t want him to step back. But that would be _stupid._ There was a gun pointed to the lieutenant’s head, and Hank knew not-Hank wouldn’t hesitate to shoot—it was what he would’ve done, if he was still a machine. He had to pull back.

But Connor seemed determined, and Hank knew he must have some sort of a plan…hopefully. He at least trusted Connor enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. He turned to not-Hank.

“If I step away,” he said slowly, deliberately, “how do I know you’ll keep your word?” Not-Hank shook his head.

“I’ll only do what’s necessary to accomplish my mission. Whether or not that involves killing this human depends entirely on _you_.” Hank cursed inwardly. He knew his other self was telling the truth. He was programmed to “accomplish his mission” and that was it. He wouldn’t take a step out of that path—and Hank didn’t have enough time to force not-Hank to deviate. He turned to Connor again, his one foot moving back, but one harsh glance from the lieutenant stopped him. _Fuck,_ why didn’t Connor want him to pull back? Did he really think the revolution was more important than his life?

Hank definitely disagreed on _that._

“I’m sorry, Connor,” he instead said, his voice shaking—from fear or guilt, he didn’t know. “You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with this.” Connor shook his head again.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Do what you gotta do.” Hank clenched his teeth. He wanted to scream. He wanted to save Connor, somehow, and also help Markus, but none of his preconstructions succeeded in making both happen. He was at a loss.

“Enough talk!” not-Hank yelled, jamming the gun to Connor’s head. Connor didn’t even flinch, even though Hank felt like he himself literally jumped out of his skin. “It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save your partner’s life? Or are you going to sacrifice him?” _Save him,_ Hank thought, his goal—which had changed from [CONVERT ANDROIDS] to [PROTECT CONNOR] in about a millisecond—shining bright red in his field of vision. He turned back to Connor, who shook his head again, mouthing something. Hank frowned.

_Trust me,_ Connor was saying. _Trust me._ Connor wanted him to convert the androids. He wanted Hank to _sacrifice him._ Fear knotted Hank’s throat. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk it. Even if Connor had a plan… It was impossible. Hank would shoot Connor as soon as he tried to convert the androids. Connor would be dead before he could even move a finger. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

But Connor seemed so…sure of himself. So confident. _Trust me._ He was asking Hank to trust him—and fuck, hadn’t he showed multiple times that he could be trusted? Sure, he was reckless with his life, but Hank didn’t think he’d outright _kill himself_ to be some sort of a fucking hero. He had too much to live for—he loved his brothers too much to just let himself be killed like that. He must have a plan—a plan that had at least some chance of succeeding or else he wouldn’t try it.

And Hank… Hank trusted Connor enough at this point. So instead of stepping away, he turned to the android he was holding and reentered its program.


	2. story of my life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...does anyone still care about this story? guess i'm about to find out.
> 
> okay, so, i kinda feel like i have to explain myself, because checking the dates i was absent for about 9 or 10 months, which is a looooong time for me. i don't know if i've said it before, but i was a senior in high school this year, and anyone in the US knows how crazy that is. i promised myself i'd keep up writing even when it gets hard, but a couple things piled on in the beginning of the year, and i didn't have the energy to continue. 
> 
> honestly, if we're going lesson-wise, this year was one of the worst i had. i had terrible teachers except for, like, one class, boring lessons, never-ending exams and college applications, and beyond all of that i had this teacher in history that literally sucked the life out of me. i don't know why exactly he affected me this much, but he did, and i can say in hindsight that i was so close to crossing that blurry line between mere sadness and full on depression. i didn't feel the energy or will to do anything other than keeping up with my classes so that i didn't drop my grades. i had to leave theater club, which was near and dear to my heart and even signed off from my martial arts club. i was in a bad place, and among all of that, social media didn't do me any good. so i stopped looking at all of them (including this site). 
> 
> i'm fine now, better than fine actually. the school is finally over, and i'm feeling much better. still, to know how close i was to being depressed was chilling for me, and even though i hate leaving things hanging in the air, i'm glad i took the year to take care of myself privately a bit more, because i desperately needed it. still, as i said, it's not my style to leave things unfinished. so i'll keep on writing this AU to the end that i imagined when i first started it, even if no one reads it. (i hope that you do, though). anyway, thank you for beind understanding in advance, and i hope you enjoy this. 
> 
> and trust me when i say this - more will be coming :)

Connor saw the shift in Hank’s eyes at the last second. He knew the android would be inclined to save him—it had always been Hank’s instinct; even when he claimed he only cared about his mission, he compromised it quite often to help Connor. But it wasn’t as if he’d come here unprepared. He _knew_ the Hank that came to his house wasn’t the real Hank. He knew Hank might threaten his life, one way or the other.

He also saw that Hank didn’t carry any weapons, so there was a good chance that he’d use Connor’s gun against him. He was ready for it.

He was just glad that Hank trusted him enough and saw that he had a plan. Hank grabbed the android’s arm, and at the same time, the gun next to Connor’s head clicked. An empty one. Before grabbing it from his house, he emptied it, so that in the case that machine Hank did get the gun he wouldn’t be in danger. And if Hank didn’t, the android would have no way of knowing the gun was empty if Connor threatened him with it.

It was a risk, sure, but something inside him told him that it was the right thing to do. And he learned to trust his gut early in this business.

He spun and grabbed the gun from machine Hank, trying to twist it out of its grasp. But the machine was stronger—it pushed Connor away and to the ground easily. A gunshot rang through the storage area—but it wasn’t coming from the machine. It was from the _real_ _Hank,_ who took out his gun and shot at the other Hank. The machine’s attention quickly spun to his counterpart, right as Hank jumped on it.

Connor couldn’t do anything other than watch from the sidelines as the two androids fought each other. They were so fast, so quick that Connor could barely follow them. They were literally…inhuman. They didn’t fatigue, they didn’t get distracted, they didn’t choke…and they were, in every way possible, evenly matched, so much so that it was hard to even _guess_ who was who.

Connor looked around, trying to find something to help Hank. He saw the gun lying on the floor—not his empty one, but Hank’s gun. He scampered over and grabbed it, pointing it to the androids. “Stop right there.”

The androids stopped and looked at Connor, stepping back from each other immediately. He tried to analyze their faces and behaviors to see which one was the real Hank, but _damn_ did they look alike. He remembered Hank once saying that HK800 models were specifically made to emulate human emotions, to be more beneficial in extracting confessions. That meant that even if he saw feeling in one of their eyes, he couldn’t be sure if it was real or not.

“Finally,” one of the Hank’s muttered under his breath and lifted his hands. “Well, Connor, it seems you’re the one saving my life now, huh? Well, get rid of him so that we can go.” He hastily gestured at his doppelganger. Connor just frowned. He certainly seemed to have the aura of confidence that Hank had, and a slight hint of that ego, but something was _off_. His eyes seemed just a bit colder, not enough to convince Connor he wasn’t the real Hank—it could just be the lighting—but enough to be suspicious. Besides, he spoke too quickly for Connor’s liking. And if he remembered correctly from his experience as a detective, people who rushed to protect themselves were usually less than truthful.

His eyes turned to the other Hank, whose eyes were on his counterpart. “Don’t listen to him,” he said when he finally turned to Connor. “I’m the real Hank.”

“He’s _lying.”_ Hank 1—that was the only way he could separate them at this point—jumped forward again. He saw Hank 2 opening his mouth, and he decided to interject. They would get nowhere with this.

“Shut up. Both of you.” He switched the gun to Hank 1. He was more suspicious of him—it?—at this point.

“Connor, we have no time to lose,” Hank 1 started, “just shoot him and—“

“I said shut up! Repeating over and over again that you’re the real Hank won’t make me believe you.” He kept his eyes trained on Hank 1. His gut told him that he was the machine and Hank 2 was his real partner, but he couldn’t be sure enough to shoot.

“Why don’t you ask us a question?” Hank 2 interrupted. “A question only the real one would know.” Connor turned to him. That made sense…if they assumed they didn’t just copy his Hank’s memories to the machine. But what choice did they have?

And besides, he could assess their reactions to the questions. Watch their faces as they answered. The real Hank would bound to be more sympathetic. He just needed to find the right question.

He turned to Hank 1. “The night we were supposed to go to the Eden Club. We couldn’t do it. Why?” His gaze flickered to Hank 2, watching him prepare to answer, but Hank 1 was faster.

“You were having a panic attack. I needed to calm you down, and stayed with you to make sure you didn’t harm yourself. We went to the crime scene the next day.” Connor narrowed his eyes. Hank 1 seemed almost too smug to know the answer. He turned to Hank 2 now, without taking his gaze off of Hank 1.

“Where do I go when I need to think?” It should be an easy answer, but he needed to see if this Hank remembered how affected he was when Connor threatened to take his own life.

“To your old high school. It reminds you of how everything started, and why you have to keep going, despite how easy it is to kill yourself.” Connor saw a small shiver in Hank 2’s shoulders. Their eyes met, and he could almost see understanding there. He shifted his gun ever so slightly to Hank 1.

There’s just one more question he needed to ask. “My brothers. Tell me about them.”

“Their names are Caleb and Richard.” Hank 1 jumped forward, apparently so eager to prove himself. “Caleb is going to a med school in Detroit, and Richard is in college in California.”

“You send them money every month.” It was Hank 2 that continued. Connor’s eyes turned to him. That was information he never shared with Hank. “A substantial amount of your pay. They both have financial aid, but you want them to live as comfortably as possible, something you never had as a child. That’s why you live in your small house, because that’s all you can afford with the money you have left. But you don’t tell them about it. You joke a lot about how they don’t pay you nearly enough as a lieutenant to cover up the fact, and pretend as if it’s your parents that send the money. You don’t want them to feel owed to you.” Connor’s heart was stuttering as he watched Hank—not Hank 2, because he knew that was his partner now—smile at him. It was a sad smile, as if he wanted to tell Connor that he understood, even though he wished things were different. “You love them with all your heart.”

Connor smiled back at him. Because of course Hank knew about the money. He would’ve cared enough to look into it. He didn’t even feel angry at him for snooping. At this point, he was glad for it. He felt completely comfortable with his decision as he trained his gun on Hank 1—the machine Hank.

“I knew that too, Connor. I would’ve said—“ Connor didn’t let him continue further. It was a clean shot through the head. He didn’t even hesitate.

“You know, Hank,” he said a couple of seconds later. “You were really a prick when you were just an android.” Hank laughed, and Connor had never been so happy about that noise. He turned to Hank. “Now do what you gotta do. We don’t have much time.” Hank curtly nodded, stepping towards the android. He glanced at Connor before grabbing its arm.

“You should take care of yourself better, Connor.” Connor sighed and smiled, watching Hank deviate the android in front of him.

_Story of my life._


End file.
